


never let you go

by ell (amywaited)



Category: Marvel
Genre: Fluff, Get Together, High School AU, JUST, M/M, Mutual Pining, idfk when will i learn how to tag, read it?? it might be fun, sort of pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 04:40:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16654417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amywaited/pseuds/ell
Summary: learning lives, learning love, and living them.





	never let you go

Wade lets out a long whine. “Ness, he’s so. UGH.”

“So ugh?” Vanessa asks, wrinkling her nose. She pushes a biro pen into Wade’s hand and taps her finger on the sheet of paper in front of him. “Come on.”

Wade drops the pen. “I can’t focus, Nessa. I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Wade, I get that you’re having heart problems but I also don’t want to fail this project because of you,” Weasel says. 

“Shut the fuck up, Weas,” Wade says. He falls back on Vanessa’s bed dramatically and holds his middle finger up to Weasel. “He makes me feel so. So-. So many things.”

“Just ask him out, Wade,” Vanessa says, picking up the biro he dropped and painstakingly writing a title on their poster board. “And come help.”

“No!” Wade exclaims. “He’s mean. And scary! I think he hates me, Ness.”

“Everyone hates you,” Weasel drawls. 

Ness and Wade both shove middle fingers in Weasel’s face this time. 

Weasel snorts. “She’s got a point though. Just ask him out. He can’t hate you more than he already does. And we do need your help on this project.”

Wade sighs. “But I  _ love  _ him.”

“Yes,” Vanessa says. “We know.”

Wade talks over her. “He’s just so. Beautiful. His eyes. His hair. God  _ fuck  _ I want to touch his hair.”

“You can touch my hair,” Weasel says. 

“Your hair looks and feels like straw,” Vanessa says, reaching over to run a hand through Weasel’s hair. 

“I don’t want to touch your hair, Weasel. I want to touch  _ Peter’s  _ hair,” Wade says. “But I think if I did, he would cut my hand off.”

“You’re lying if you say you’re not into that,” Weasel mutters. 

Vanessa laughs. “Come on, Wade. Get your laptop and start researching, okay? 

Wade groans. “ _ Fine.” _

_ “Thank  _ you,” Weasel says. “We have to get this done today.”

“Tomorrow,” Vanessa corrects. 

“Tomorrow?” Wade asks. “Deadline was extended?”

“We got sent an email,” Ness says. 

“I forgot my password,” Wade shrugs. 

Vanessa rolls her eyes. “Of course you did. But we should try and finish this today regardless. Come on. Put aside your love sick woes for a few hours at least?”

“My love sick woes?” Wade huffs. “At least call them something sophisticated if you must.” 

“There is nothing sophisticated about you crying to us about the boy you love,” Weasel says. 

“At least I can pretend,” Wade retorts. Then he sighs. “Do you really think I should just ask him out?”

“Yes!” Weasel and Ness respond in chorus. Vanessa continues, “Really, Wade. Worst comes to worst, he never speaks to you again.”

“And he doesn’t speak to you now, so I don’t see the issue,” Weasel interrupts. 

Wade shrugs. “I don’t know. He could take offense and rain eternal damnation upon me.”

“You’re acting like he’s the King of Hell, or something,” Vanessa says. “Gimme,” she gestures for his laptop, and Wade slides it over to her without a word. 

“Well, he might be,” Wade shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t know him at all!”

“How do you know you’re in love with him, then?” Weasel asks. “What if you’re just in love with the  _ idea  _ of him?”

“Don’t do that to me,” Wade groans. “Aren’t you friends with his friend MJ, Ness?"

“Mhm,” Vanessa makes an agreeing hum. “Why?”

“You could talk to him for me! Slip in a good word. Or introduce us!” Wade says. 

“Or,” Vanessa says, “You could do that yourself.”

“Or you could do it for me?”

“Wade, I’m not playing matchmaker for you,” Ness says. Then she sighs. “I could invite MJ and her friends to sit with us tomorrow so I can work on my bio homework with her?”

Wade grins. “Nessy, you’re the best. B-E-S-T.”

“Yeah, well,” Vanessa says. “Come on. We need to actually get  _ something  _ done on this.”

“Uh, yeah,” Weasel says. “All we’ve got is the title.”

“It’s a shit title,” Wade says, leaning over to read it out. “‘Why Does America Hate Minorities?’. Catchy.”

“Wade, shut up,” Vanessa says. “It’s a fine title. It just needs the rest of it.”

“Which we have to write,” Weasel sighs.

“Right,” Vanessa says. “Come on.”

* * *

 

 

“Gweeeeeeen,” Peter whines, running a hand through spikey brown hair. “Gwen. Gwen Gwen Gwen Gwen Gwen.”

“Shush,” Gwen says, reaching over to hold her hand over Peter’s mouth and pulling her blonde pony tail over one shoulder with the other. “I dont’t want to listen to this again. Talk to MJ about it, or just ask him out.”

“I can’t,” Peter says, his voice edging on desperate, “He hates me. I know he hates me.”

“You don’t know he hates you,” Gwen says patiently.

“Yes, I do,” Peter insists. “He barely looks at me and when he does, he always looks terrified. I scare him.”

“You scare everyone, Peter,”  Gwen says. “Maybe you just keep missing when he looks at you.”   


“I don’t scare everyone,” Peter mutters. Gwen just stares at him.

Peter glares back before saying, “Fine. Maybe I.. cut an intimidating figure. But I’m not! I don’t get why he won’t just talk to me.”

“Why don’t you talk to him first?” Gwen asks. She picks up her camera and says, “Pose.”

Peter frowns, glaring down the lense. Gwen snaps a photo anyway. “I can’t talk to him first. I’d get made fun of.”

“People are too scared of you to make fun,” Gwen tells him. “Pose again. Don’t frown. I’d like this homework to look even vaguely nice.”

“It’s photography, it doesn’t matter. You can find some underlying meaning for it no matter what,” Peter says, but he tries to make his face look more accommodating. “And I’m not that scary!”

Gwen looks at him disbelievingly. “You’re the one who gets in the most trouble, you turn up to school with bruises every single day, your hair is freaking blue, you have holes in your ears, and you rarely talk to people who aren’t me, MJ, Harry, or Ned.”

“I only get in trouble because school is boring, I have bruises ‘cos I’m clumsy, my hair is blue because MJ was practicing hair dye and I liked the colour, I have holes in my ears because I like the stretchers, I don’t like talking to people in general,” Peter counters. 

Gwen just sighs. “You’re also difficult and stubborn.”

“I thought you were meant to be my friend,” Peter says. 

“Maybe you can get Wade to kiss it better,” Gwen tells him. “Pose again.”

Peter spins around so the evening sun hits his face. Gwen takes a picture, and as soon as the shutter sound has gone off, Peter closes his eyes. There’s a pause of silence as Gwen examines the photo and then a soft sigh.

“Is it a good one?” Peter asks her.

“Yeah,” Gwen says. “Freckly.”

Peter hums. The roof of Gwen’s apartment block is almost scary high up, but it also has the best sunsets. Gwen sinks down to sit crossed legged. The glow of the sun makes her hair look almost like fire.

“You really do like him, don’t you?” She asks quietly.

Peter lets the hum of cars down below fill a few seconds before replying. “I think so.”

“Yeah,” Gwen says. “I think we’re done. You’d best go.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Peter asks. He knows she’ll say yes.

“Always,” Gwen says, like he knew she would. She offers him a soft smile. 

Peter returns it. “Bye.”

He climbs over to the fire escape and starts down it. He considers swinging over the edge and onto the level below it, but figures Gwen would have his head if she saw it. 

 

* * *

 

Tuesday morning dawns wet, rain pelting down on Peter’s window. The sun is barely awake, and neither is Peter. His hair feels messier than usual, blue curls furling over his ears and forehead. 

His eyes are also somewhat glued shut. Which isn’t ideal, because he has to pat around his bed to switch his alarm on snooze before attempting to pry them open. Only to snap them back shut. Despite the grey morning, it’s disgustingly bright, and light streams relentlessly through his open blinds. 

It takes him hardly any time to get ready for school, and after wolfing down a bowl of slightly stale, off brand cereal, he feels a bit more with it. The sun is properly shining now, too, which brightens Peter’s mood slightly. 

He considers eyeliner that morning. Gwen and MJ both say it makes him look ten years older, in a good way, and Ned says it makes his eyes look bluer. A glance at the clock has him settling for a coat of mascara, though. He can’t be bothered with his contacts, either, so shoves his glasses on, runs a hand through his hair in the hopes of dislodging it into something resembling human, and stumbles downstairs into the hall, still half asleep. 

Peter barely remembers to shove whatever homework he thinks was due in his bag, somewhat haphazardly. There’s a high chance it’ll all be horribly folded and rumpled when he comes to take it out, but he tries not to think about it. 

Gwen and Harry are standing outside the subway station near his house when he stumbles down the road, arms linked. Gwen has a turquoise and purple beanie with a pompom on top pulled over her blonde hair, and the cold has made her nose red. Harry’s wearing a smart, black, wool coat, and trying his best not to look frozen. 

“Morning,” Peter mumbles, fumbling in his pocket for his subway pass. 

“Hi, Pete!” Gwen chirps, overwhelmingly chipper for so early in the morning. “MJ said we have to sit at a different lunch table today.”

“Why?” Peter asks. “Which one?”

Gwen’s eyes twinkle. “Vanessa Carlysle’s.”

“Vane- no! Gwen, no! I can’t sit  _ there _ !” Peter exclaims. 

“Why not?” Gwen asks innocently. 

Peter gives her the stink eye, and Harry laughs, loudly. 

 

* * *

 

Wade has four classes before lunch period, and they all pass unbearably slowly. He’s vaguely nervous about lunch, but he doesn’t know exactly why. Peter might not even sit with them, and he can’t decide if that upsets or relieves him. 

There’s only one way to find out, Wade thinks, pushing open the off-blue doors to the cafeteria and beelining towards his usual table. 

The circle table usually sits 8, but Wade, Ness, and Weasel only fill 3 of the seats. Today, though, there’s only one seat spare. 

Right next to Peter. 

Vanessa and MJ, Peter’s tall, intimidating, beautiful friend, are both already bent over a couple of books, and sheets of paper radiate around them. Weasel, Ned, Gwen, and Harry seem to be engaged in conversation too, and Peter’s just looking around, listening and jiggling his leg. 

Wade tightens his grip on his backpack strap. At least Weasel’ll be sitting on his left. 

Vanessa sends him a satisfied smirk when he sits down, avoiding everyone’s eyes. Wade really wants to punch her. 

However, Peter, apparently, has really nice friends, because Gwen immediately tries to include him in the conversation. 

“Hi! Wade, right? I’m Gwen,” she says with a wide smile, “I think I sit behind you in World History.”

She probably does. Wade shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t look behind me a lot.”

Gwen giggles. “Well, it’s nice to finally talk to you.”

“Yeah,” Wade agrees half heartedly. Weasel prods his shin with a sneaker and frowns. 

When Wade turns to him with a questioning frown, Weasel just shrugs. Vanessa seems thoroughly enraptured by whatever MJ is showing her, and Harry quickly pulls Weas back into conversation. Gwen joins in, Ned pulls out a laptop that looks like it’s falling apart. Which leaves Wade and Peter to actively avoid one another’s eyes. 

Like, noticeably avoid each others eyes. Till it's awkward, and now everyone’s watching them. 

“Are you two… okay?” Gwen asks, innocently and sweetly and God bless her soul. 

“Fine,” Wade says, in sync with Peter. Which makes him blush unbearably red. 

It doesn’t comfort him much to see Peter burning just as pink. 

Vanessa snorts, glancing over at them. Wade bites his lip, hard enough to draw blood, squeezes the strap of his backpack and flees.

 

* * *

 

Peter glances at Gwen with wide eyes, lets blue curl fall into his face. Drops his eyes to his empty lunch tray. Sighs. Stands.

Walks after Wade.

 

* * *

 

He’s pacing in the football pitch when Peter finds him. The bell is probably about to go, but Wade doesn’t look like he cares, so neither does Peter.

It’s raining, which makes him grimace. It sticks his hair to his forehead. Water-logged clothes are never fun.

Wade’s eye catches on him. “Peter?”

“I-”

“What- what are you doing?”

“Are you okay?” Peter asks instead.

“You should go back inside.”

“Are you okay?”

“You should go back inside.”

“Are you okay?” Peter repeats stubbornly.

Wade turns away to hide his grin.

 

* * *

 

(Their first kiss is behind the bleachers, hiding from the rain. Wade tangles long fingers in blue hair, and Peter holds on like he’s never letting go.

They spend the following months learning each others lives, living them, loving them. Wade discovers Peter’s aunt makes the best cherry-almond cake he’s ever had. Peter takes enough pictures to fill a memory card and Wade lets him.

Wade holds Peter’s hand at all times if he can get away with it. He’s not letting go for nothing. Not this time. Gwen hasn’t ever seen anyone look so happy.)

 

_           fin _ .

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> this took lowkey an hour to post bc my wifi kept cutting out so u better fuckin appreciate it.
> 
> sorry for the two month long sort of hiatus. ive been writing a bit on my tumblr (you know. things thats arent worthy of ao3). but i promise more things are coming! as soon as i finish them.
> 
> let me know what you think! the comment box is there for a reason


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